Ellie looked up again, shaking her head as confusion overwhelmed her. “I don’t understand.”
“I know, but one day you will. When the time comes for you to know, you will remember everything.”
Then the light faded and he was gone, leaving Ellie with her mother. She looked down at her hands, realizing they were drenched in blood. Holding them out in horror, she glanced down and saw blood covering everything—her mother, her nightgown, Bunny, the floor. She started to scream.
A door downstairs banged and Ellie screamed louder. The bad men had come back, but she couldn’t make herself get up. She couldn’t leave Momma. Sobbing, she grabbed her mother’s arms and shook. “Momma, get up! Momma, please!”
“Ellie!” her father shouted in panic downstairs. “Ellie!”
She heard his footsteps on the stairs before his horror-stricken face appeared. His feet faltered, and he fell on his knees on the top step.
“Oh, God. Oh, God.” He crawled toward them, his eyes wide with fright. “Ellie? Where are you hurt?”
Ellie shook her head, trying to catch her breath. “Momma.”
He reached for her mother, carefully touching her shoulder with shaking fingers. “Amanda?” When she didn’t answer, he became more insistent. “Amanda?” He began to sob, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. Momma’s head leaned back, her long red hair hanging behind her. Daddy’s hand got tangled in it as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “No! God, no!”
Ellie watched in horror as her father fell to pieces in front of her.
He rocked Momma back and forth, crying so hard he couldn’t catch his breath and uttering incoherent sentences.
“. . . my fault . . . I shouldn’t have gone . . .”
Ellie got to her feet and walked to her parents’ room, feeling like her body was moving and she was just watching it happen. She grabbed the phone off her mother’s bedside table, and her shaking fingers wouldn’t cooperate, making four attempts to press 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
The phone to her ear, Ellie moved to the bedroom door, not recognizing the man at the end of the hallway.
“Is there an emergency?” the operator asked.
“My momma,” she whispered. “She’s dead.”
“What happened?”
Ellie couldn’t answer. She could only stare at her parents. The events of the night had begun to fade, making her memories fuzzy.
“Little girl?” the operator became insistent.
Momma died because Ellie had told Claire about the curse. Momma died because of her.
This is all my fault.
Dropping to her knees, tears filled her eyes as the horror of her guilt washed through her.
She had killed her mother.
A dark, bitter anger swelled in her chest, replacing her overwhelming grief. No, Ellie had played a part, but the stupid curse had killed her. Her chest burned with fury and she swore the curse was dead to her forever. She didn’t want to be part of something so evil that it would kill her mother.
“Little girl?” the operator repeated. “I’ve located your address and I’m sending a police car and ambulance now.”
Ellie dropped the phone to the floor and slumped against the wall, staring at her parents as her grief broke loose again, making everything move in slow motion and feel like it was a million miles away.
Her father continued to cry, mumbling about the curse and her mother’s death being his fault. She wanted to tell Daddy that it was her fault, not his, but he’d hate her. How could he not? She’d already lost Momma; she couldn’t lose Daddy too.
Ellie tried to imagine a world without her mother and came up with nothing—only darkness and despair and emptiness. But there was one thing she knew, the devastating proof in front of her: her life would never be the same.
The voice whispered in her ear.
“Yes, witness to creation. This changes everything.”
About the Author
Denise Grover Swank was born in Kansas City, Missouri, and lived in the area until she was nineteen. She then became a nomad, living in five cities, four states, and ten houses over the next decade before moving back to her roots. She speaks English and a smattering of Spanish and Chinese. Her hobbies include making witty Facebook comments and dancing in the kitchen. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity. Or so she leads everyone to believe.
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